As readers of this blog will know, I have been a home-baked pizza fanatic for a while now. I’ve done lots of experimenting, tried lots of tweaks. Masochists can trace the evolution of my pizza sojourn from its beginnings via the links at the bottom of this post.
While I’m no fan of Masterchef (rave building…but that’s another post), Gary Mehigan and Georgieboy Calombaris are undoubtedly excellent chefs and I do make sure I catch the Friday night ‘Masterclass’ episodes (he lied, trying to suggest he exercised some degree of discrimination, when in fact he hasn’t missed an episode: blame a long-standing trash TV addiction). Last Friday’s class was particularly interesting for me because it featured Gaz and Georgieboy demonstrating home-baked pizza.
Earlier in the week, there had been an ‘Invention Test’ in which the contestants were given one hour to turn out “the best woodfired pizzas in the known universe” – or some such silly hyperbolic Georgism (can someone pleeease dunk his fucking scriptwriter in the deep fryer?).
I was big fan of the first Underbelly series. It was genuinely edgy, tense, confronting. You felt like you were looking through a keyhole into the darker reaches of the underworld.
Series 2 was nowhere near as good. It was still gritty, still had its moments, but was all a bit try-hard. The white-knuckle tension of amphetamine-paced Series 1, that sense of the ever impending threat of explosive violence, had slackened off. Further, where the original series was full of characters that were as compelling as they were shady, Matthew Newton’s portrayal of psycho ‘Mr Big’ Terry Clark was a bit schlocky, and the rest weren’t very interesting. I struggle to remember them apart from George Freeman, Robert Trimbole, and Clark’s girlfriend Alison (who can forget Anna Hutchison’s glorious tits?).
Well, going by the two-hour opening double-episode to Series 3 – The Golden Mile – the quality trend has continued on its downward spiral. Continue reading Underbelly 3 Gone Flabby!→
Here they are again. Random, disorganised, informed by personal prejudice…just how you like it. Yes you do. YES, you DO!
Right, now that that’s established, are you all sitting comftybold two square on your botties? Then I’ll begin…
2009 Boomtown Rap Free-to-air TV Awards: The BR Bogeys
Pet Semetary Award: Hey Hey It’s Saturday. Whose idea was it to dig this rotting cadaver up, give it mouth-to-mouth and send it lurching back to TV land? I never could understand the popularity of Hey Hey even back in its halcyon days, but what do I know – exhuming it was a ratings winner. Daryl Somers proved there is plenty to eat in the afterlife. Other than that, what to say except thank God for the blackface ‘Red Faces’ skit – anything that riles Harry Connick Jnr gets my tick of approval.